It mattered not whether she flunked the year as she would soon be gone. He was also, had she known it, more than a little insincere. “Damn!” said Ann Veronica to herself, rousing herself for a conflict. ‘Forgive my not rising to greet you,’ she said, holding out a claw-like hand. “NO!” she said, at last, with something in her voice that reminded Ann Veronica of a sprung tennis-racket. . He was conscious of a quickening of his heartbeat and the familiar rise of adrenalin that sent his senses soaring in anticipation.
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